


Hunting Wabbits

by PastelWonder



Series: Return To Me [2]
Category: Blitz (2011), Spy (2015)
Genre: AU, F/M, Halloween Costumes, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5144720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/pseuds/PastelWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Chubby bunny' takes on a whole new meaning for Tom when Susan decides to spice up their Halloween night. </p><p>But has this silly rabbit nibbled off more than she can chew?</p><p>Yay, smut!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunting Wabbits

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in Additional Tags, this fic includes a pinch of Dom/sub. If that's not your thing, you might want to skedaddle now. 
> 
> Oh, you're still here. 
> 
> I thought so ;>

Susan eyed her reflection critically. “I don’t know, Nance… it’s a lotta look.”

“Ooo, send me a picture!”

“Ok - wait, let me get the gloves.” Susan padded out of the bathroom, shifting bags and boxes around on the bed until she found the pair of black satin gloves she’d ordered. She worked them on.

“And the shoes!” Nancy sang. “Don’t forget the shoes!”

_The shoes._

Susan looked dubious. “I can’t really _walk_ in those...”

Nancy scoffed. “I’m not asking you to run a marathon, Susan. I want to see the whole ensemble.” She said _ensemble_ with a French flair.

Susan tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and gripped the door jamb for balance as she stepped into the black patent heels. Tottering carefully into the bathroom, one hand trailing the lip of the sink just in case, she closed the closet door and looked at herself in the full-length mirror.

“Crying Pete, I look like a bad episode of VH-one _Where Are They Now_ , Playboy addition.”

“Shut up and take the picture,” Nancy said lightly, affection in her tone.

Susan opened her camera app as she reached up to straighten her bunny ears. She struck a pose, wobbling a bit in her heels.

While the picture uploaded to Nancy’s phone, Susan leaned against the sink, kicking off her high heels.

“I mean it, Nance. If I look ridiculous, just tell me so I-”

Nancy gasped. “Oh my God - Susan, you look _amazing_!”

Even though Nancy was three thousand miles away, Susan blushed and smiled sheepishly. “Oooh, I don’t know…”

“Tom’s going to have a heart attack.” Nancy rushed to add, “In a completely sexual way.”

_A sexual heart attack?_

Susan took another look at her costume in the mirror. _Costume_ was perhaps generous - it was more like a black velvet one-piece bathing suit with a white collar and matching bowtie. The long white rabbit ears and soft cotton tail had come with the costume; the black fishnets and satin elbow-length gloves were add-ons. Susan had felt it needed more… coverage.

“I don’t know…” she hummed doubtfully, hiking the heart-shaped neckline higher in a vain attempt to cover more cleavage. The site she’d ordered it from had assured her it was _queen size_ ; however, whatever “queens” they went by for fitting had been considerably smaller in the bust department. She was spilling over the top of it, and she was pretty sure if she bent over at even a forty-five degree angle, the girls would pop right out.

“He’s going to absolutely savage you, Susan,” Nancy sighed dreamily.

Susan balked. “Uh-oh.”

She had a flashback to their honeymoon, when she’d worn the pink see-through babydoll nightie and matching mesh panties Falls had given her at her bachelorette party. She had a vague recollection of her ankles touching her ears as Tom pounded into her ruthlessly. Mostly, she remembered screaming, “Oh God oh God oh God” at the top of her lungs while her own breasts tried to smother her.

Her cervix winced. “Maybe I should have gone with the sexy plus-sized witch?”

Or a bag lady.

_You’re playing with fire, Susan._

“Don’t be ridiculous - it’s perfect,” Nancy assured her.

Susan glanced over her shoulder at the mirror. She wiggled her rabbit tail, picturing Tom’s strong hands on her ass. “Let’s see.”

____________________________________________________________________________

She heard the key turn in the strike at eleven-thirty. She was sitting on the sofa, watching _Laurel and Hardy_ reruns on the Classics channel and trying to work up her nerve.

Tom tried the door, stopping when the chain lock caught. He called for her quietly, “Susan.”

She took a deep breath. “Ok Susan, you can do this. You’re a hottie. You’re a sex bomb.”

She touched her bunny ears, fidgeted with her gloves. She’d left her shoes by the door so she wouldn’t have to risk the walk from the sofa. She steadied herself with a hand on the wall as she stepped into them.

Her stomach flipped as she undid the chain.

“Happy Halloween, Tom,” she said softly when the door opened. She batted her long fake eyelashes at him and tried to look pouty.

“Jaysus wept…” Tom’s eyes went wide as he looked her up and down, stopping to appreciate her tits before wandering down to her fishnet tights and five inch heels. His nostrils flared, eyes narrowing as they cut up to hers.

Her stomach dipped.

“What’s all this, then?” He waved his hand over her.

Trying to keep the nervous lilt out her voice, she said, “You work so hard, I thought you deserved a trick and a treat this year.”

He grinned at that, a sharp-toothed smile, and stepped inside the apartment. “Is it?”

She nodded, tongue darting out to lick her lips. His eyes dropped to her mouth.

He was so close she could smell his aftershave and the lingering scent of cigarettes as he rumbled, “What’dya ‘ave in mind?”

_It’s just Tom_ , she reminded herself as she stared up at him, fingers wiggling anxiously at her sides. “I-”

Her ankles wobbled and she teetered in her heels. “Mother butler…”

“‘old on, ‘old on.”

She felt a mix of relief and apprehension when he stepped up quickly and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. Pressed up against his chest, her tits looked ridiculously large spilling over the top of her costume.

He noticed, talking straight at them as he rumbled, “Where you goin’, sweet’eart? Party’s just gettin’ started.”

“Tom,” she smoothed her hands over his shirt. His eyes were dark, almost black in the dim hall light as he looked at her. His hard-on dug into her belly.

“I’ve been a very bad bunny,” she whispered, tracing the seam of his lips with her finger.

His arms cinched painfully around her waist. Her knees buckled - she could feel how wet she was as she struggled to get her feet under her.

“I’ve been a bad bunny,” she repeated breathlessly, hands trembling slightly as adrenaline poured through her. She touched the corner of his mouth, gave him her biggest, prettiest eyes. “I need you to teach me a lesson.”

He kissed her deeply, tongue stroking into her mouth and hands pressing into her low back until she arched for him. He gripped her ass, lifting and separating her cheeks as he jiggled them.

Using the toe of his boot, he found the door behind him and kicked it closed with a loud _Wham!_ before he backed her up. His hand was behind her head, tangled in her hair, as she bumped up against the wall.

He tugged until she tilted her chin up, opening her mouth wide for him. His tongue was practically down her throat as he ground into her, hands cupping her tits and squeezing her belly and kneading her ass.

Her legs shook; she hooked her hands over his biceps, clinging for dear life. He was grunting and groaning into her mouth, their lips making hot smooching sounds as they kissed.

He broke the kiss to bury his face in her breasts, pushing his nose into the valley between them and rubbing his head in a quick side-to-side motion.

He mouthed his way down her belly, kneeling in front of her and pressing his face between her thighs. His hands ran up and down her stockings, the rough tips of his fingers catching occasionally in the cheap netting. He sat back on his heels and looked up at her, past her belly and breasts.

“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She took a deep breath, hand on the wall behind her for balance as she started to kick off her shoes.

He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Leave ‘em on.”

She was shaking like a leaf, practically hyperventilating as she whined, “Tom, I don’t think - “

“Stop thinkin’ and do what I’m tellin’ yah. Turn around and put your hands on the fuckin’ wall.”

“And it’s Sergeant Brant to you,” he added.

_Well well, Sergeant Brant. Long time, no see._

Two things she learned about Tom in the first year of being with him. The first was that the man liked to role play. A lot. The second was that once she figured out an avatar, it was as simple to manipulate him as it was to manipulate her Tom. The ace up her sleeve was that every one of them - in some shape, form, or fashion - loved Susan. Even celebrity hurling player-Tom, who prided himself on his vicious center charge and the long trail of broken hearts he left behind him.

Sergeant Brant was the first avatar Susan met, and her favorite. Probably the nastiest brute of the lot, he was the roughest ride, and also the filthiest.

And the one most like her Tom.

“Yes, Sergeant Brant,” she breathed.

He watched with dark eyes as she wobbled around to face the wall. She placed her hands palms-down, fingers spread apart.

“Christ almigh’y.” She jumped a little when he pinched her tail. She’d forgotten about it. “Fuckin’ killin’ me, Susan.”

She ducked her head to hide her smirk, glad she went with the bunny get-up afterall.

He trailed his hands up the insides of her legs as he stood, giving her mound a slap.

“Oh yeah, you’re a naugh’y li’le rabbit, aren’t you?” he rumbled in her ear.

She turned her head away and bit her lips together against a giggle.

Sergeant Brant hated to be laughed at.

“Yes, sir. I am a very bad bunny.” She looked at him over her shoulder and fluttered her lashes. “I need to be taught a lesson.”

“S’that right?” He rubbed his hand over her ass and gave her a sharp smack.

_Yes, please._

“Mmm.”

“You like that?” He smacked the other cheek.

She nodded. “I’ve been so bad…”

He stepped up, pressing himself against her as he gripped her hips and pulled her back into him. “S’that what you came ‘ere for? Yah want me tah teach you a lesson?”

She could tell by his scowl and the way his hands were reaching around to jiggle her belly that he was completely caught up.

“Yes, Sergeant Brant,” she moaned, rubbing her ass back against his crotch. “You’re so big and mean - oh God - it makes me so wet.”

She heard his deep inhale.

He snarled, unable to form intelligible words, and snagged her wrists, pinning them high above her head.

“Spread your legs,” he told her in a harsh, gravelly tone. He nudged her foot with his boot.

She stepped carefully, feeling his hands clamp down on her waist to steady her as she threatened to tip over. He ground his crotch against her as he reached around and squeezed her breasts.

Her legs were trembling when he stepped away; she was careful to keep her hands on the wall above her - he got very touchy if she moved them - and leaned her weight into her forearms as she braced herself.

The first smack sounded worse than it was, echoing in the small hallway. The costume absorbed most of the sting.

With a frustrated grunt, Sergeant Brant gripped the hem of her one piece and pulled up, cinching it into her crack until the bottoms of her asscheeks popped out. He smoothed his hands over them.

The sensation of his warm, strong hands and the nylon netting against her skin made her gasp.

He smacked her again, and this time it stung. She bit her lip.

The next slap was hard enough to make her whimper a little. She pressed back, feeling the costume dig into her and the tights stretch across her ass.

“Like that?” he asked, breathing hard enough for her to hear it over the pounding in her ears.

“Yes,” she mewled. “Don’t stop.”

He smacked her several more times, each a little harder than the last, until her asscheeks were red-hot and she was so wet she thought she’d slip out of her costume. She didn’t think she could hold herself up any longer.

The next slap hurt, and not in a good way.

“Ok, ok.” She looked back over her shoulder. His face was flushed; she could make out the rise and fall of his chest and the slight shake in his hands. “Easy, baby.”

He stepped away from her and scrubbed his hands over his head, nodding. She stood as still as she could while he caught the end of his control and reeled it in.

“Get on your knees,” he told her.

“Here?” She frowned, glancing down at the tile doubtfully.

He worked his jacket off his shoulders, throwing it down onto the floor with a _whoosh_. “Kneel on that, then.”

She nodded and tried to steady herself with a hand on the wall as she lowered on shaking legs. His jacket was thick enough to take the edge off the hard tiles, she noticed as she reached up and tentatively palmed his crotch.

 

She asked innocently, “What do you want me to do?”

He reached between her rabbit ears and grabbed a handful of hair. “Yah know what I want.”

She decided to really wax it on. “But Sergeant Brant, I’ve never sucked cock before.”

His hand tightened in her hair. She bit her cheeks to hide a smile.

“Sure you’ll figure it out,” he rasped as she unbuckled his belt. “You look like a natural-born cocksucker.”

She blushed, working him out of his briefs. His cock sprung out from his waistband, bobbing proudly. The head was almost purple.

She gave it a long lick, from the base of his shaft just above his balls all the way to the head. She swirled her tongue around the head, catching the salty precum there.

He gripped himself and rapped the head of his cock against her lips a few times. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out for him.

“Spit on it.”

She did, then took it in her mouth, going down about half-way and hollowing her cheeks on the way up. “Mmm-mmm.”

“That’s it. Like that,” he told her as she bobbed, pressing his hand into the back of her head lightly.

She made the helpless little noises she knew Sergeant Brant liked as she sucked him, looking up at him with big, soft eyes.

His hips made shallow thrusts in time with the push-pull of her mouth, and he was breathing harshly and grunting, “Look at you, darlin’. Knew you’d be a good li’le cocksucker. You like that?”

She nodded as she bobbed, feeling her jaw start to stiffen. She pulled him out of her mouth with a wet _pop_ , the head trailing spit and precum. She spat on him again, pumping the shaft as she let her jaw relax and caught her breath.

“God, you’re such a sexy li’le bunny. Take your tits out.”

She reached into her neckline, scooping her breasts out of the cups of her strapless bra and letting them spill over.

She was surprised when he knelt down in front of her, thinking he’d want her to blow him until he came on her tits. Instead, he wrapped one strong arm around her waist and cradled the back of her head in his other hand as he told her, “Lie down.”

She worked her legs out from under her until they were bent at the knee on either side of him. The tile was cold on her arms and upper back as he helped her lower to the floor.

He cupped and lifted her breasts, rolling them in his hands. He took her nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping hard enough to make her eyes water and her head tip back. The heels of her hands dug into his shoulders. “Sergeant…”

_So good. Hurts so good._

He was just as rough with the other; her fingers curled reflexively, nails digging through his shirt. She made a high-pitched, “Uhh”, wriggling.

“‘old still, Goddamnit,” he warned her, taking her wrists in his hands and pinning them above her head. His hips dug painfully into her belly.

He hooked the fingers of his other hand into her collar and yanked. It came off with the tearing sound of velcro ripping apart. He buried his face against her neck and kissed her, hard open-mouth kisses that made her moan and whine.

“You like that?” he asked, mouth right against her ear.

“Hurts,” she mewled, eyes clamped shut.

“Want me to stop?” he panted, raising his head.

“No!” She shook her head emphatically, cracking her eye open.

His face was inches from her, watching her closely.

“Please, Sergeant Brant - I’ve been such a bad bunny.” She stretched up to kiss and lick at his jaw. “I don’t know what to do. I feel so hot all over. I need- I need-”

He smirked, letting go of her hands to sit up. “I know what you need.”

He pulled his belt out of his jeans, and for a wild second she thought, _Oh shit_ , until he looped the end through the buckle and slipped it over her wrists. He tightened it just enough so that she couldn’t work her hands loose, but not so tight it cut off her circulation.

His hands roamed over her costume, feeling down the front and along the sides. “How’s it come off?” he snapped.

“Back. There’s a zipper in the back.”

He worked his hand under her, groping around for the zipper. It came undone with a quiet _ziiiip_.

She took a deep breath as the costume loosened around her. He peeled it off of her slowly, kissing and nipping her belly and hips as he exposed more of her.

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he dragged it down past her thighs. “Look at you, sweet’eart…”

The costume had been so skin-tight that she hadn’t worn panties underneath; the only thing covering her sex was the netting of her tights.

“Soakin’ wet for me.” He slipped his fingers between the fishnet, sliding them up the length of her slit. He smirked. “Beggin’ for it, aren’tcha?”

He tore a wide hole in the crotch and pushed two thick fingers inside her.

Her head tipped back and she whimpered.

He pumped them a few times and then brought them to her lips. “Taste yourself.”

She stifled an eyeroll and lapped delicately at his fingers before she sucked them into her mouth. She worked her tongue between them, seeing how his lips parted and his brow furrowed as he watched her.

_Men._

He pulled her costume over her legs and feet without taking her heels off and tossed it away. He shoved his jeans and briefs down, pedalling his feet until he’d kicked them to the side. He caught her legs under her knees, dragging her back to meet him as he shuffled forward.

He shifted her belly out of the way with one hand and lined his cock up with the other.

“Oh God, feels so good,” she moaned as he pushed in, burying himself to the hilt. He didn’t give her time to adjust as he dragged his hips back and snapped forward. Her cunt gripped him reflexively. “Uhh…shit-”

He picked a fast tempo, hiking her thick thighs up his and pressing her legs forward with his hands under her calves. His cock made obscene wet sounds as he pumped into her.

“Uh-nuh, Sergeant Brant...”

Her rabbit ears were crooked, she realized as she started to jerk beneath him. She reached to take them off.

“Leave ‘em,” he snarled.

She tucked them straighter into her hair, laying her bound hands back down above her head. She winced as he put more power in his thrusts, feeling him butt against her cervix.

“S’this what you wanted?” he growled, bracing one of her calves against his shoulder and squeezing her belly.

“Yes - oh God - you’re so big, Sergeant. You’re so big in my tight pussy.”

He angled upward as he panted, “Gonna fuck your li’le cunny raw - teach you - a lesson-”

_Oh-ho-ho, yes._

“There! Right there! Right there right there right there-”

She was starting to bounce back-and-forth beneath him, head dragging uncomfortably against the tile. She tried to tuck her hands behind her.

He shifted forward, letting her thighs drop onto the tops of his. He looped her arms around his neck and reached around her, cradling the back of her head in his hand.

He couldn’t fuck her as deep with her belly between them, so he revved up the pace, pounding into her as fast and hard as he could. She closed her eyes and concentrated on matching his rhythm, clenching her cunt as he drew back and relaxing when he slammed forward.

“Look at you, wanton li’le thing. Like that? Like my big strong cock fuckin’ your hot li’le cunny? S’why you’re dressed like that, innit? You bad li’le bunny.”

“Yes,” she nodded frantically, clamping down on him as she felt her orgasm building. She hooked one ankle over the other behind him, dropping her knees open to take him deeper. “Please - give it to me harder, To-Sergeant Brant.”

He did, scooting forward until he was right up against her ass. He braced himself with one hand beside her head, the other still cradling her, and drove into her as hard as he could.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Oh God - give it to me - shit -”

Her thighs shook, her breasts slick with the sweat dripping from his forehead and neck. She came keening, clenching so tight around him he groaned, “Fuck me” into her ear.

She floated along the waves for a bit, enjoying the shocks of pleasure each time his pelvis hit her clit. Then her cunt started to ache a little too much around him.

_Time to call it a night._

“Mmm Sergeant Brant - oh God - you’re so fucking big.”

She threw her head back in his hand, licking her lips generously. “Uhhn God… you’re so strong - I can’t take it - you’re too strong.”

He snarled something - it didn’t really matter what, at this point - and picked up his pace.

“Fuck me with your giant cock, Sergeant Brant.” She bit her lips together, sucked in her cheeks as he grunted into her hair.

When the urge to giggle had passed, she decided it was time for the show-stopper.

In her sweetest babydoll voice, she whimpered, “Oh Sergeant Brant, I wanna feel your hot come inside me.”

His thrusts started to lose rhythm. He raised his head and looked at her, face pinched like he was in excruciating pain.

He was so close.

“Come deep inside me, baby,” she breathed, ignoring the twinge in her lower back as he pounded her into the floor. She sucked her tongue. “I need to feel you come in me. I’m so in love with you, Sergeant Brant.”

Two more thrusts and he rocked his hips up into her as hard as he could, muscles tensing as he came with a grunt. She felt the hots spurts of come inside her, the way his cock twitched and throbbed, heard his toes crack as they curled.

He paused over her long enough to catch his breath before he lifted her arms from around his neck, pulling out and rolling off of her with a, “Bloody ‘ell”.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, snorting and sniffing.

“My back hurts,” she complained lightly.

“Come ‘ere.” He worked his arm under her and reached around her with the other, gathering her up in his arms and dragging her on top of him as he laid down on the floor.

“I’ll smush you,” she said as she tried to paw her bangs out of her eyes with her hands still bound.

“God I ‘ope so,” he told her with a boyish grin as he worked his belt off her wrists. He checked for marks. “Gettin’ good at that, aye?”

She nodded. “Way better than handcuffs.”

“Oh yeah?” He tucked one hand under his head, rubbed firm circles into her low back with the other. “Thought I’d get you one of them fuzzy pairs. With the fur or whatever.”

“For you, maybe,” she snorted.

“Me?” He plucked the fishnet off her ass, pulling it back and letting it snap her. “Told you before: you get ‘em on me, an’ I’ll wear ‘em.”

She thought about her last failed attempt, which ended with her handcuffed to the stove while he fucked her from behind. The incident had given him endless fodder for his misogynist jokes, as well as a split lip. God only knew what story he told at station the next day to explain _that_.

She huffed. “You cheated.”

“I never!” he crowed. “S’one rule: I can’t ‘it you back-”

“Your rule, not mine!”

“And I never ‘ave.”

“Fine, new rule: you cannot bring your own handcuffs.”

He laughed out-loud at that. “Make as many rules as yah like, sweet’eart.” He gave her ass a cocky _pat-pat_.

She snuggled her cheek against his chest, grateful he was still wearing his tee shirt, even if it was damp. He sweated like a pig when they had sex, and it was gah-ross.

He tweaked her rabbit ears. “Did all this for me, did yah?”

She laid her hand on his chest and rested her chin on top of it. “Nope, I went to the grocery store like this. It was a hoot.”

He snapped her hose again, grinning. “Sas-sy, madam. You gonna backchat me like that next time I ride yah?”

“Puh, not if you’re Sergeant Brant, I’m not.” She gave him a meaningful look. “He is a no-nonsense dude.”

“What if I’m Tom?” He thumbed her plump bottom lip.

She shrugged her shoulder, smiling. “Sure.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “As long as you’re not Yosemite Sam.”

“Oi! It’s Broncho Brant, nastiest gunslingin' bastard in the West.” He gave her a _so-what_ look when she giggled. “I like Westerns. Always wanted to see the American West.”

She tried to picture Tom in his dark London street clothes and a tan cowboy hat. The image was… disturbing. “You’re a strange man, you know that?”

“Stuck with me now, aren’tcha?” He smiled smugly, squeezing her in his arms.

She heaved a dramatic sigh. “I guess…”

“Now now, none a’that,” he warned her.

“Oh fine.” She scooted up him, leaning down to kiss his lips. “I love you, Tom.”

“I love you, my darlin’,” he told her quietly, brushing back the wisps of hair stuck to her forehead. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever loved.”

Her heart panged in her chest.

She smiled mischievously as she kissed him again. “I love you too, Sergeant Brant.”

He grinned.

She snickered, “And I love you, serial-rapist-Tom.”

“Oi, ‘e’s a _burglar_ , not a rapist! Jaysus. ‘e always asks you if you want it, don’t ‘e?”

“And I love you, Wile E Coyote - oh excuse me, Broncho Bill -”

“It’s Broncho _Brant_.”

“What’s the cricket player’s name again? I forgot.”

“It’s hurl- Goddamnit, Susan!”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (very belated) Halloween to all my friends in Spy Fandom! Fall is upon us, and I was 1) fighting writer's block and 2) feeling festive.
> 
> It's no big secret I like dressing Susan up in cute outfits - I think it makes up a third of my word count. She's just so freaking beautiful! And as I was standing in a costume store this weekend, it hit me: Susan as a sexy, plush Playboy bunny. Uh - just *all* of the prettiness!!!
> 
> Needless to say, Tom was *ecstatic*.
> 
> I can't decide if I'll write a Halloween shortie for Rick and Susan, too. I'm sure there's another sexy little costume I could put her in...


End file.
